Poem: Free Verse – “Prayer for the Small Things” #amwriting #poetry #prayer


Credit: Saatchi Art – Thank God For Women Legs by Thomas Saliot

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Oh Lord, thank God for the small things, 

The words and acts of kindness, 

Which help me through the day.

Thank God for the small things, 

Each day I’m fed, 

I’ve many clothes to wear.

Thank you that I too can be generous

That you gave me a Mother who taught —

Her daughter to be thoughtful, 

So I wouldn’t think only of myself. 

And even when I’m hurt and crying

I can see a silver lining in that cloud. 

*****

Lord, thank you for the small things, 

A life I’m given to live

No matter how battered or bruised

You’re my armour and you never leave. 

Your champions wage

Though the whirlpool may swallow;

You bring us through to the other side. 

New blessings each day, 

More than we need or want, or deserve

Thank you for the small things. 

For earnings, for caring friends, 

For a heart that doesn’t break when it’s bent

Thank you for love; however, small it was, 

For those who hurt me, 

So I knew then, what forgiveness was. 

*****

Lord, oh for the small things, 

That kindness could be formed in me, 

To kill the badness, the jealousy

Thank you for keeping him safe, 

For him not being my guy, 

Though I pray for him still, 

You keep him secure, alive —

I pray you give him faith

And draw us both close to you. 

*****

Thank you my almost love, 

Is not in the big picture. 

I hope he sees his wealth, 

His privilege comes, 

Not only with acts of goodness

But faith in God, in Jesus —

From his heart

If I see him again —

Help me to not turn away but to repair

So much is your power, 

You could change a man’s mind. 

Help him see he is lost in the law, 

He needs your grace to believe

*****

Thank you Lord, for the small things, 

My family, my friends, those I detest. 

My lost pets, my forgotten foes. 

Every man I felt something special for,

For the ones who hurt me deep and cut in;

I didn’t bleed out and die inside. 

I moved on, survived

I’m doing okay. 

*****

Thank you I was born in this day and age

Not one-hundred something years ago or more. 

For medical advances, social programs, 

And people more understanding, 

At least I hope

Thank you that one day, I’ll see you face to face,
Thank you Lord, for the small things, 

For to me they’re very big.

My prayer I give and keep in my heart

For your omniscient presence, 

For your healing,

Oh Lord, I ask and give thanks. 

———

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

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Photo (Collage) Prompt: Poem – Wrapped Refrain – “Home” #poetry #amwriting #fiction 


Thanks to Mind Loves Misery’s Menagerie for this week’s photo (collage) prompt.

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——–

Autumn was such a time for us, 

Love was fun, nothing dangerous.

Leaves falling deep red, orange, yellow.

Met you walking, strong and mellow. 

Attractiveness found, conversation, tokens.

Hid memories in a box, saved before broken.

——-

Paper boats sailed on peaceful lake, 

Sitting ‘neath trees, in your arms wake.

Photographs you took of me and —

Made me laugh, giggle; life was grand.

Such times we had, you lugging your camera around, 

Pictures of us, many left, they’re here surrounding.

——

Photobooth, and I sat on your —

Lap; laughing again, not sorry.

Your handsome face, so dear to me, 

Making you laugh, my mission, see? 

Making faces in photos in my underwear, 

I knew I could coax out a smile, you loved me bare.

——

Exposed to you, negatives shot,

Our days close, even when we fought.

Knew you well, every smile and frown, 

Wish you were alive, but you drowned.

Now our time is done, my photographer, my love.

All these pictures snapped, thinking of us, our short love.

——

A spritz of the perfume I wore, 

The day we meant, special for —

Not forgetting you now; playing —

Songs we sang, piano keys they say, 

Through music what I could never admit alone,

Autumn was our time, in your arms laying, I was home. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Tankas – ” Beyond Fondness” #wordhighjuly #poetry #tankas #amwriting



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http://www.pinterest.com

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Humaling, fondness.

Of extreme quality, 

Fond for certain friends.

Caring, great deal for family.

Beloved Aunt; Grandma, niece.

——-

Searching deeper seems, 

Such fondness as humaling.

Means fondness further.

Not merely affection heartfelt, 

Special love given, which is free.

——-

Not feelings, fondness —

For your relations or friends.

Humaling, loving, 

Your other half, their presence.

Emotions driving deep love.

——

True love; which locks two.

A mysterious connection felt,

Never the same with —

Anyone ever existing.

Causing heart beats so in sink.

—–

Time may alter love.

Authentic love, means no limits.

Makes you speechless, soft.

Sore secrets in open air.

Your lover, a bearer of your strife.

——

You know their secrets.

Share in joys and sorrow too.

Extreme fondness hurts.

It’s beneath the surface shown, 

Hurts and trials woven with love.

——

Release one thread; help —

Your kindred spirit, beloved.

Sleep not in anger.

Satisfied; in love ’til death.

Not only fondness; in love.

——-

Your piece of puzzle, 

Missing until a fated, 

Day; you find them lost.

Together complete a circle, 

Forever, love beyond bliss.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poems: Free Verse  – “Chivilry is Dead; Love Lives” #amwriting #poetry


http://www.polyvore.com

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Swords, steel reflecting light, might against might;
Who has the stronger arm; who’se trained to perfection? 

End ridiculous contestants, challenging each other, 

Coming to blows over Ladies, with medieval weaponry.

Put your duelling pistols away, live through dawn;

You combat with each other as you choose, 

It means little to me; chivalry the grim has scythed.

——-

Twenty-first-century woman, with poise taking on life.

Chivalry, extinct and never truthfully was ‘in,’

It was a gest, a game the court played for King and Queen,

Beneath the game, feigned affection reigned.

No thought for the personal freedoms of a Lady, 

No thought for the woman; she was owned.

At the hub of a wheel of chilviry, the Princess on her throne.

Married off on a white horse, to a dashing young Prince.

He a tyrant, spinning the cogs and wheels of his kingdom.

She primps, preens, performing a show;  

Accepting her Prince’s knight’s fealty; his dying love,

On battle field, the enemy soldiers ran the knight through.

Courtly manners, hide whispered secrets;

Lethal games, converging in mortality; bloody corpses.

 Hold your swords away, do not thrust or perry for attention.

The world has out-grown “pissing contests.”

—–

Win the woman of your dreams, with humour, 

Demonstrate, actual life, not fairy tales, can be fun together.

Your wife can be your lover; your lover your wife,

No having a woman pure enough for wifely duties, 

And a mistress a man loved and made actual love to.

Forget Authorian Legend and courtly love; it’s rules are lore.

Buy your own Lady gloriously coloured flowers,

Take her for a night dancing; giving a memory to smile about.

Together is being with all of your close friends, 

Together is melding your families;

Being united by oath; an agreement between you both.

A Lady is no longer the Princess on the courtly pedastool;

 A man is no longer the white knight; we’ve put to rest fairy tales.

Netflix and chill on the couch; a stately royal date,

Closing the leather bound, dusty history’s books, 

On weird courtship rituals, forced marriages, and chivalry.

More than anything, chivalry was a literary tradition.

Yet, the modern era cries; find your soulmate if you can.

Most parents finished arranging marriages,

A new way to win the bride, to win the Lady.

——

Love her for more than her sexuality, her ability to have children; 

Love her though she is flawed and not entirely ideal.

Love her forever, your heart beating for her;

Chilviry in true form; hides in the modern world.

Equality of woman and men; yet woman adore being catered to,

How lovely to be spoiled; treated as if you were special despite feminism.

Only, keep your swords and your pistols in the vaults of history, 

A game of fists won’t usually solve the problem.

Slipping in through the cracks of ice in her shield, 

Growing warmth and heat, so her hard heart beats, 

Thawing out the cold; letting spring light up her voice, 

Allowing the light in her eyes to flourish and glow, 

Hiding winters barren drought filled radiation.

Rays of light, they ignite and bring fire to her tears, 

Bring a Princess, ignored and used —

Into the modern-era; she’s your Lady, so you treat her well, 

And all her love acquire in return.

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Wrapped Refrain – ” You and I End, But I Survive.” 


 

wwe.kimdodd.mft
 
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Inside me I hope you see my soul,

Dreaming accomplishment, goals.

I wish you could reach deep within, see —

See beneath the visage, me.

There’s more then what is visible, in a sunrise —

Lost in the spaces of memory, arising.

—-

I hope I can reveal to you,

Treasures of thoughts, giving you clues.

I’m a women capable of love,

I take, I give more; push and shove,

I spoil you because you’re a vision, my best-friend

Depending on you, it’s difficult to do, in the end.

—-

Not sure what this says about my mind,

That I cannot trust; hurt inside.

Little by little I’ll give you more,

I’m afraid you’ll see me out the door,

I’m dreaming, being comfortable together.

Both in our sweats, and me cuddled in forever.

——

You get nervous, when I go beyond,

Physicality, a skin bond.

You give me looks at certain times,

Staring into my eyes, I’m moon shine.

But then, ignoring me because I did something wrong.

I don’t read minds, ever heard the tune of that song.

——

At times, I believed we were going,

Places, you and I, showing —

Each other we can do this spring,

We can be special, mean something.

Then you tune me out again, until you want “it” again.

I’m sad, I feel knives; leaving you, I lose but gain.

—–

I’m strong on my own and thrive.

Demonstrating I survive.

Wires of energy feeling vibes.

Turning away from us, describe —

The beauty of being alone, peaceful, and free.

Inside me, I create my own happy place, you’ll see.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: “Special”


Just another girl. No one special to you. Just another conversation making plans to get laid.

Just another girl. Not as pretty and not as hot. Just some girl who is quite flawed.

I know you’re flawed too. I hear it when the words leave your mouth. Talking like a guy who thinks he’s big stuff.

But every now and then you say something understanding. You comprehend somethings I don’t expect you to get. 

But I still wished you’d told me nicer, all the girls you’d been with and how hot they were. How it’s easier to get laid because they don’t have my problems.

You didn’t say that last part. But I thought it. You didn’t mean to sound cruel, you were only being practical saying the truth in black and white.

But it hurt me. Because you don’t understand, no girl wants to be like every other girl. She wants to be special and unique. She wants to be someone you remember. Not another girl you tagged.

Being “together” is important but conversation and how we get along, I think it’s more or equally as vital. A smart guy would see he’s the keeper of the Romance.

And if he wants to get with me he better play his cards right. Because I’m the keeper of the sex, I say what is and doesn’t go. 

So, I maybe difficult and I maybe imperfect but I want to be with a guy who thinks I’m beautiful and likes me for my flaws. I want him to see how unique I am, even in my words.

I want him to see from when we first talk that I’m worth his time and effort. And that I’m not like any other girl. I am his. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Poem: ” Objectified”


 

http://www.pinterest.com
 
It comes to me in pieces. I wasn’t good enough for you. I was only one of many. I didn’t realize, I wasn’t important.

I didn’t have that special vibe, that made you feel alive. The attraction I felt, only my imagination acting out.

Your piercing look of blue seeing me, trying to devise a way to know me. At least you tried a bit. I miss it.

And I miss the arms of someone who loved me much. But something wasn’t right. It’s how some relationships go. I wasn’t aware how much he saw in me, until he was gone.

Some men don’t try at all. They think you are only a release of the pent up need to mate. The desire of a guy for a pretty woman is tireless and unforgiving. He’s sure you’ll answer his libido’s call.

Why did I never see. I was always a number. I was always an object of sexuality. When I was young and so pretty , my worth was my beauty. Somethings don’t change, only the younger women are hotter.

I think of a song: “But Beautiful is empty / Beautiful is free / Beautiful loves no one / Beautiful stripped me.” (Creed) 

Beautiful is empty. Those girls who giggle freely and don’t mind being objectified. But some of them are hiding a world of color and art beneath their facades. A library of knowledge and experiences.

I realize how much we base on looks, our society is based on youth. Those who are the shiny pretty people. But no one can measure up, after your twenties or even then.

You tell me all the hot girls you can get. You tell me how easy they are to find. You make me feel no different then those you have defined merely for sex. What do you want with me, I am not so vapid. 

I thought I saw something in you. A softening of a man’s heart. Maybe I thought, you could sympathize with my life and make more of an effort. But I’m merely cute. I am not beautiful.

I’m not the ‘void’ that made me small when collage boys looked at me. I have learned from my experiences and I have always been more then my face or body. 

You say we should wait and see. Let the way things go, make the decision. I don’t mind going that way. But I see now I’m a number, a prized pet begging for attention with all the other women. A number.

There is an entire women’s movement of equality and their begging their men and trying to teach their sons to see women differently. I don’t think we’re succeeding. 

Woman are valuable because we are a ‘person’equal to men in every way. We are valuable because we are as smart as men and at times, much wiser. 

We are not our looks or our ability to bear a certain amount of children. We are not all the same. Each woman is unique and valuable for being herself. Stop numbering us on your head board. 

Ladies, stop chasing the men who are only after your tail. Stop letting them win when they characterize you as that easy girl they slept with. Make it hard, so they see your worth. Make them work.

And if they can’t see how wonderful you are. Throw them to the curb. Teach them a lesson. Tell them to stop objectifying women. To stop only seeing bleach-blond hair, big breasts,  and a lady whose got back — as the epitome of womanhood.

All of this is special and may make you who you are. The right men will adore your body, and it’s unique proportions. But they’ll adore your mind and your soul equally. They’ll treat you — what a word — specially.

And your man will try his hardest, to ensure you see you are valuable to him. All of you, from your hair to your toes. From your thoughts to your soul. 

Don’t do the walk of shame again and be ashamed for expressing your sexuality. If it’s what you desire you should know, you better make him a number before he turns you into one.

You best believe me lady. You are falling for a con. And you’re pushing back the women’s movement when you give into his charm. When he hasn’t put the work into, seeing you for who you are.

Real Neat Blog Award


  
Thanks to Hook, Line, and Inkwell for nominating me for this award and since it is the holidays and I am relaxing I shall be  happy to accept it. 

________

Award Rules:

• Thank the nice person who nominated you and ping back.

• Complete the task your nominator assigns.

• Nominate several bloggers—up to seven, if you like!

• Give them a challenge to complete, and share these rules.

• Include the logo, above, in your acceptance post.

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The Task:

Complete one act of kindness (ie. donate something to the homeless or someone in need; help someone carry groceries; shovel a walk way for some one; volunteer somewhere; etc…) and write a post about the experience.

So, I chose to go with a monetary donation this time of year and made an extra donation to Operation Christmas Child from the Sanaritan’s Purse foundation. This charity has a special place in my heart as it provides presents to children in areas of the world where children hardly have the basics for daily life, never mind a Christmas present. For Operation Christmas child you can fill a box for a child of a certain age group and fill your box with school supplies, hard candies, a small stuffed toy or other kind of toy, hair accessories, etc. Operation child will deliver your box to a child in need. They also appreciate monetary donations and fill boxes themselves as well as use the money to support the charity. If you would like to donate to Operation Christmas child or any Samaritan’s purse cause you can go to the website here. Also, you can read about Samaritan’s Purse’s projects to help people in need. 

I nominate the following people to receive this award. You do not have to participate but you can if you like.

1. Stories and Scribblings

2. Passion Through Poetry

3. Conscience Creates Reality

4. Strange Lander 2015

5. Steps Times Two

You are all amazing bloggers who I have had the privilege to read and admire your writing. You make me think and make me laugh. You make me consider things in a different view point then  I usually perceive the world. So thank you so much.

I like Hook, Line, and Inkwells idea of performing an act of kindness, especially at this time of year. So your challenge should you accept is to perform one act of kindness and then write about it when you accept this award. 

Poem: ” Not in the Moment.”


  
A midnight Christmas poem, to settle you to sleep after turkey dinners and children’s dreams. (A picture of a beach to encourage your own.)

At an hour the moon is magnificently full and round and never will be again for many years. Describe your perfect moment. (Can you see that beach?)

Describe now, what you want to accomplish in the coming year, pass your festive cheer and go on to new beginnings. (In Hawaii?)

Or, go a little easy on the nog or “special” punch so you can think in a half sensical state about what you would like your life to be as you persevere through the night.

You might never change a thing; your life could be exactly how it is in the moment you’re enjoying. Or maybe you would like to experience some changes … (In the surf on a sandy beach walking through tiny waves that lap at your feet.)

Life is full of the good and bad. And no time like Christmas to reflect, the bad ain’t so bad. We are all blessed in this respect.

To have a home, a life, a family, food to eat that is even sweet, and food that is healthful, the wine in your glass, the dog in your lap, and the child who is playing with his toy’s box. (To picture a warm place and learn how to surf…)

Life is pretty sweet but there is room to improve for everyone. I don’t mean to push. I don’t mean to shove. But I am looking ahead with a nod over my shoulder (– is that a shark in the water?)

I’m stuck in the midnight glower of a lamp light, composing poems on the night of Christmas, but I guess Christmas is no more soon. (But I still see a Hawaiin sunset…)

Soon we approach a New Year. Soon we say goodbye to 2015. Soon we drink champagne and dance the night away. Soon we have philosophical conversations at 3:00 am with the next holiday party. (Or sit calmly in a lovely cottage near the ocean?)

But stay, here in Christmas time and the birth of ‘Immanuel.’ Stay for a moment in the serenity of the night and swallow your last bit of nog or punch.( Beach …)

Think of your bubble, the charity and love. Despair of the relatives who won’t leave and the mess to clean. Pour another glass. Glug! Glug! Glug!

Midnight is passing and it means that I must sleep leaving you with merely a thought. What do you want in the coming year?

Beyond Boxing Day shopping. Beyond all the presents received. Beyond all the company. Beyond all the food and the drinks. Beyond the festivity, what more could there be. (A sunny warm place where you can lie on the beach.)

But there is always more and that’s the thing; we have so much and these little moments become precious memories that help us through the new when we look ahead and face problems and deficiencies. 

Time passes on and the grand moon shines. A blaring light at my window and it is bright in the snow, calling to me softly. Where will you go? 

That challenge I suppose waits for days to come in the passing of the year; for now still be of good cheer. Sleep soon. Hangovers get worse each year. (Hawaii is near.)

——

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.